I knew who she was. She was one of the empowered that came here for some unspecified reason. But when I saw her puzzled, somewhat concerned face. I couldn't help but see her like most would probably see those 'cosplayers'. A little odd, but definitely still just another person. One treated as a weirdo the other treated as a threat or an icon depending on how society perceives them.

Now that I think about it, that was probably more accurate to empowered than most care to admit. It probably sucks being deified or demonized constantly instead of getting to feel like a normal person. Granted I'm pretty sure the latter treatment is the minority of their experiences. Doesn't make it sound any less uncomfortable though. Wait I've been quiet for way too long, this is getting awkward.

"You know, when most people imagine getting surprised to find the person they're talking to is an empowered. I usually figured on them being in stealth camo or wearing normal clothes, not a frilly dress. Guess that's on me for not paying enough attention."

It took her a moment to process what I said. She seemed to give out a sigh of relief and chuckle. Before taking my still outstretched hand.

"I mean, yeah, I'm not exactly the most subtle person you'll meet. I guess we'll call it even since I kind of mistook you for someone else."

That surprised me, I knew very little about empowered work- only the basics in fact. One of said basics was that if an empowered was in a line of work that involved fighting, knowing civilians was considered taboo. Talking with someone and then watching them get blasted to bits, or being blasted yourself, because one of you pissed off a drug lord with access to illegal technology was pretty much the exact thing the F.D.D.I did their best to avoid.

Why the heck would she know anyone who looks like me? I'm don't exactly have an empoweree's physique.

I got an answer to my question, albeit a very weird one.

"You know Jury, right? You might better know him as kid justice from when he worked with his father. You both have that kind of gym jockey look. Not to mention the same hair and eye color"

"Jury? Really? That guy was built like a truck when he was 14, he must be built like a truck by now. There's no way I look anything near that."

"No really, you do. Look I have a picture of him up close, you'll see what I mean."

She handed me a picture, and I in turn looked at myself through the camera app on my phone. I did not like what I found.

"Shit, we have the same shoulders and everything. I won't need to beat up people because they think I'm him, will I?"

Well shit, maybe I should start walking down a different street. I don't like imagining the aftermath of me trying to deal with an empowered with a grudge.

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"Doubt it, he might be buff but he still looks normal as far as empowered are concerned. Usually people don't even recognize him outside of his tactical suit."

I'd seen the suit she was talking about on the picture of my newspaper, it looked like what you would find in a spy movie- decked out and in all dark blue. Not sure why he wouldn't choose black but he was the one doing the job, not me, he probably had a good reason.

"I'll give him this, at least what he wears is practical- wait no, I didn't mean it like that."

I had expected indignation at the accidental insult, but she was back to laughing again. Cackling like she'd insulted me instead of the other way around. Glad she had a sense of humor, I would've felt like a jerk.

"You're not wrong, I hate wearing this stupid stuff. It's just the only thing I have that's durable enough for both the cold and physical damage to keep up with me."

"Wait, those aren't just clothes? I know most heroes have special suits to deal with their powers and stuff but I thought making things tougher tended to require them to get bulkier?"

"Usually that's true, it's a long story but these aren't made of normal materials. Unfortunately this is all I have of them, I can wear other stuff too, but everything else would get shredded in a fight."

I wasn't quite tired anymore, and could probably have left for home instead of taking the bus. However, I was curious about whatever material she was wearing. It sounded super useful. Not to mention this conversation was probably the first I've had outside of work that could be considered casual in… well the point is I'm enjoying myself and I don't see a need to stop just yet.

"So…. You have a lightweight super durable outfit. What about laundry bills then? That stuff self-cleaning too? I'm starting to get jealous."

"God, I wish. It's not even machine wash, I have to do it by hand before using a heater or blow-dryer. It's Super annoying"

"You don't have an ironing table?"

"No, of course not. These are the only clothes I have that get wrinkles. Why, do you?"

"Of course, I use it twice a month to get the wrinkles out most of my clothes."

"Why would you- no.. No I won't fall for that again, you're messing with me like that rush comment."

"To be fair I do walk on the same street as the rush, just not at the same time as it happens."

"Ignoring how that probably isn't much better, why the hell would you even own an ironing board. How many clothes do you have to get unwrinkled!?"

"Like I said, almost all of them. I wear mostly suits, with the only exception being workout clothes."

"….Fuck me, that sounds like a pain in the ass."

"There's a reason I have two laundry days. Cut the time in half between the weekend and I can do other stuff each day. Luckily it takes 4-5 wears before I have to clean them, so it's not really as bad as it sounds."

She looked horrified, which I found no end of entertainment from. But I wasn't going to lie, it was inconvenient. Granted I was pretty sure the amount of suits I had hit that sweet spot of 'enough to get me to laundry day' and 'not so much that laundry day is a nightmare' it was a hard balance to make but I found it. The only problem was how long it took to iron them out. Before I could explain myself further she interrupted me.

"Two laundry days is excessive, I don’t care what you have to say on the matter- you're obviously crazy. I might have to call a professional."

She was using a weird snooty voice, probably to show she was joking.

It's only appropriate I reply in kind. Sardonic asshole voice, don't let me down.

"Please do, you seem like you need the help."

It came out more nasally than I would have liked, but it did the trick. She seemed to think it was funny too, which is a plus.

Eventually the bus came, and as I stepped on and said goodbye she asked a question I wasn't ready for.

"So, what's the likely hood of us seeing each other again."

I hesitated, unsure of what exactly to say to that question. Just as the doors closed I finally found my response.

"Probably unlikely all things considered, but I wouldn't say no to being proven wrong."

And with that, I went home.